As much fun as working in my jammies all day is, putting on a bra and doing my hair makes me like a million times more productive, yo.
I have to make a more conscious effort to frequently remind myself that I am loved, I have friends who care, and not everyone thinks I suck at life.
It’s so easy to get sucked into a void of depression, self-loathing and anxiety.
But at some point, I get tired of being such a fucking downer. I am such a lazy creature that I don’t even have enough emotional stamina to spare to feel anything negative for more than a few weeks before I realize how not worth my time it is.
It’s not that it stops hurting, it’s a dull toothache-y feeling in the pit of my stomach and behind a closed door in my heart. It’s what wakes me up at 3am in a cold sweat. It’s what makes me question everything before I let my guard down with anyone, which I seldom do anymore.
I don’t know. I feel better.
I forgot I had requested five days off next weekend for Anime Expo, when I only plan on going for one day. I guess now I have some time to really get down to business for Comic Con!
I swear if I hadn’t been going swing dancing 2-3 times a week for the past two months I would be like a million times more wound up and anxious. It’s the best possible thing I could have done for myself to (literally!) shake off some of my stress.
Also tonight like three people I’ve danced with before pointed out how I don’t suck as much anymore, so that’s encouraging!
I went for a run, listened to The Beatles, and pet an abnormally loving stray cat.
Later I’m getting my methmobile back, building myself a more permanent crafting corner to keep my new machines up and ready, and attempting to make myself a pair of wings.
This week seems far less bleak than the last one.
This week is actively trying to break down my last shadow of emotional stability.
And it’s succeeding.